A Slice of the Moon
by Ralinde
Summary: A series of unrelated one-shots written for the Chinese Moon Festival Competition on the HPFC. 1. Family - Neville, Frank and Alice. 2. Friendship - Andromeda and Molly. 3. Romance - Susan/Ernie. 4. Rebellion - Astoria. 5. Separation - Percy and Weasleys. 6. Sacrifice - Regulus.
1. Family

_A/N: This is a collection of entries for thefirstservant's _Chinese Moon Festival Competition_ on the HPFC. There will be seven unrelated chapters, they will vary in length and they will depict different characters and different 'slices' of the Moon Festival. There's Family, Friendship, Romance, Rebellion, Separation and Sacrifice. And there's also a bonus slice. _

_The first chapter, Family, is also written for the first round of Fire the Canon's _Fanfiction Tournament Competition,_ September 2012 edition and for owluvr's _Character Diversity Boot Camp Challenge_, with the prompt 'light'. _

_Disclaimer: Not even with Polyjuice Potion will I turn into JKR. All rights go to her, naturally._

Neville opened the door of the ward and straightened his spine. _You've helped defeat Voldemort, you can do this,_ he told himself. He looked around the ward, almost as if taking it in for the first time. And in a way it was. From childhood on, he had come here with his grandmother. But now the war was over and Neville had grown, not only psychically, but also emotionally. He had singlehandedly killed Voldemort's snake and had thus helped defeat him. This time, he had decided he would go alone, but that didn't make it any less difficult.

His parents were probably asleep, since it was almost midnight. At first, the Healer wouldn't let him in, stating that it was too late for visits.

"Look, we just won the war, Voldemort's dead," Neville said. "I've been through a lot these past couple of hours, and I would really like to see my parents." He wasn't sure, but the cuts on his face, the bloodstains on his clothes and the determination in his voice might've helped convince her.

The woman whimpered on his mention of Voldemort's name. "Is it true? Is he really gone?"

Neville nodded. "I was there. I watched him die."

The Healer walked over to him and hugged him, her eyes filled with tears.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Now my husband is finally revenged."

Neville wasn't exactly sure what to do or what to say. Here he was, once again confronted with the cruel deeds Voldemort and his followers had done. Uncomfortable with the situation, he padded her on the back.

"There, there," he muttered. It was something his Gran would do whenever he was upset when he was younger.

The Healer quickly recomposed herself and sniffed.

"Go see your parents, boy," she said quietly. "But make sure not to wake anyone else."

"I won't. Thank you."

He walked over to the corner where his parents lay. He approached them with caution, not exactly sure what he'd do once he'd reached them. They were indeed asleep, so should he wake them? The curtains weren't completely drawn and the soft light of the moon illuminated his father's face. All his life Neville had heard that he looked like his mother – and her kind and round face told him it was true every single time he saw her – but this was actually the first time that he noticed that he _also _looked like his father.

He stood silent for a moment, before he softly woke his parents.

"Mum? Dad?" he whispered.

His mother stirred in her sleep but his father didn't react. Neville tried again and this time he touched both of their arms. His mother opened her eyes slowly, drowsily from sleep, but his father awoke abruptly. He had a look of terror on his face and backed away when he saw Neville.

"Who-who are you?" he asked suspiciously, clutching his blankets.

Neville sighed sadly. "It's me, Dad. Your son, Neville." That was always the hardest part about going to visit his parents: they never recognised him and he had to introduce himself again and again. They couldn't speak much, but 'Who are you' seemed to be the only phrase they could still manage.

His mother was beaming, always happy with the company, although she too, didn't remember who he was. He took her hands and gently planted a kiss on top of them. He had once tried to hug her, but she had been terrified when he came near and had been upset for days. It had hurt, but he had long since decided it would be better to just go with a kiss on her hand.

"Here I am again," he said. "I never thought I make it trough the day, yet here I am." He looked at his father. "I have finally taken up your legacy Dad," he said. "I've finally shown them why I've been put in Gryffindor all those years ago." There was pride in his voice and the softness of it seemed to calm his father down. He lowered the blankets a bit and looked at Neville with a quizzical expression on his face.

"Today I was a hero, Mum," he said to his mother. "You would have been proud of me, I just know you would." He squeezed her hand. "They are finally dead. Voldemort is dead. Bellatrix Lestrange is dead. Finally I know that you both have been revenged."

A shiver had gone through his parents at the mention of the names of Voldemort and Bellatrix. Tears sprung into Neville's eyes when he realised that they didn't remember who he was, but the names of their enemies were still something they recognised. How he wished it would be the other way around!

"They can no longer hurt you," he tried to reassure his father in his most soothing voice. His mother's face lightened up and she began rummaging in the drawer of her bedside table. It didn't take long for her to proudly held up a candy wrapper and push it in his outstretched hand.

Neville gratefully accepted the wrapper. She had always done that and he had always accepted, taking for granted that this was her way of saying that she cared. But today he was truly grateful. Grateful that even though they would have to spend the rest of their lives in St. Mungo's, at least they were still alive. At least they weren't dead, like Harry's parents. At least he could still see them and talk to them, even if they didn't talk back. A warm feeling washed over him. Today he had shown the world that Neville Longbottom was brave and he felt that he had finally revenged his parents. Today would be the start of something new.

He closed his hand around the wrapper and looked at his mother. "Thanks Mum," he said. And for the first time in a very long time, he added: "I love you."


	2. Friendship

2. FRIENDSHIP

_This second chapter was written for Fire the Canon's Hogwarts games 2012 – categogy men's archery (write a fic of 2000plus words on a friendship) and thefirstservant's Chinese Moon Festival. It was also written for three of the boot camp;_

_- my own Pairing Diveristy Boot Camp with the prompt 'yarn'_

_- owluvr's Character Diversity Boot Camp with the prompt 'funeral'. _

_- Lilybug314's Favourite Era Boot Camp with the prompt 'sorrow'._

_- HedwigBlack's Minor Character Boot Camp, with the prompt 'reflection'. _

* * *

Andromeda stared at her own reflection in the mirror. _The high cheekbones. The dark hair with some streaks of grey in it. The just-not heart shaped face_. She squinted her eyes and wondered: if she dyed her hair pink, would she know what Nymphadora would look like when she got to her age? "

It was the day after Dora's funeral, yet she didn't cry. She had no more tears left to cry, having shed so many already. Upstairs, some one else did have tears to shed and they made presence loudly know. The baby. _Her _baby. _Teddy_. Oh the irony of it! In all her life, she had only shared her bedroom with one male, a Ted, and now his place was taken by a Teddy. The things she wouldn't give to have them both! But apparently life didn't work that way. Life dictated that she would always loose someone when a Ted came in her life. She'd lost her parents and sisters by marrying Ted Tonks. She'd lost her husband, her daughter and her son-in-law, but another Ted had found his way into her heart. She knew it wasn't his fault, that she had to take care of him. And she loved her grandson, of course she did! But this Ted would be needing protection instead of offering it. This Ted wouldn't be lying next to her, holding her close and whispering he loved her. This Ted only barely started talking.

The crying upstairs grew louder and Andromeda tore her eyes away from the mirror. She felt guilty. Here she was, complaining to herself about the loved ones she'd lost. At least she had been able to spend years with her loved ones. Teddy would not have that. Teddy would only have her: his grandmother, who also had to be his mother, his father and his grandfather at the same time. She did not know how she could manage, but she had to try. She owed them at least that much. She owed little Teddy at least that much. She slowly went upstairs to pick up her grandson.

-o0o-

Two weeks later, she and Teddy were over at the Burrow. Harry, being Teddy's godfather, had invited her over. But she felt like an intruder on their sorrow. The loss of a son, a brother, hung heavily over the household, captivating everyone in a gloomy depression. They didn't talk much during dinner and they didn't talk much after. Andromeda began to question her acceptance of the invitation.

The sorrow-loaded atmosphere was suffocating and when everybody was in the living room, she went outside. She took a stroll down the Weasleys' garden and eventually sat down on the swing. She stared absentmindedly at the moon. It was nice outside, peaceful, and the summer breeze ruffled her hair.

Suddenly, a soft hand landed on her shoulder. She didn't know how long she'd been sitting there, but she noticed that she was rather cold. She shivered.

"Are you alright Andy?" Molly shot her a concerned look.

"I will be."

"Come back inside. It's getting cold."

"I shouldn't even be here," Andromeda replied. "I'm intruding on your grief."

"Nonsense."

Andromeda shook her head. "Don't deny it, Molly. I can see it in their eyes. You've lost Fred and they think I don't belong in you midst, while all you want to do is mourn him. I should go."

"I don't think you should. You have lost too, and who have you got to share your grief with?"

She bowed her head. "I've got Teddy."

"That's not the same!" Molly objected. "Look, I get it if you don't want to go back inside," she said after a moment's silence. "It's okay. Can I sit with you for a while?"

"Sure." Andromeda moved a little to the left. Molly sat down beside her. She didn't speak, but her presence was soothing. It was Andromeda who eventually broke the silence.

"Thank you Molly."

Molly squeezed her hand. "Don't mention it," she said. "We grandmothers, we have to stick together."

"Grandmothers?" Andromeda shot her quizzical look.

"Yes of course. Harry is like a son to us. You don't think we would let you handle everything on your own, do you?"

"But you barely know me," Andromeda objected weakly.

"That doesn't matter. I knew your daughter and son-in-law and I know the way they used to speak about you. You are always welcome here, with Teddy, or alone."

-o0o-

Since that evening in the garden, Andromeda and Molly had established a friendship. A little awkwardly at first and in the beginning it was mostly centred around Teddy. Andromeda would drop him off if the emotions of Ted's and Dora's death overtook her and she couldn't handle it. Molly would always take him in and after a couple of hours, Andromeda would pick him up again.

After some time, Andromeda would stay and they would sit in the garden, talking while Teddy played. Andromeda found that it was fairly easy to talk to Molly. They talked about the ones they'd lost; Ted, Remus, Nymphadora, Fred… They both found solace in each other's company. Andromeda never really had a lot of friends of about her own age. The people she'd been friends with at Hogwarts, had mostly been Slytherins who had turned their back on her when she ran away with Ted. Some of them had sided with Voldemort. Of the friends she'd had in any of the other houses, the only one she had really been close to was Amelia, but Amelia was dead. Molly and Andromeda even talked about the war and how it had affected them.

"Cissy's coming out of the programme next week," Andromeda said one day. Shortly after the war, Narcissa had wanted to re-establish the contact with Andromeda. But many, many years had passed, not to mention the fact that Narcissa had been on the other side of it. Andromeda had not really been sure whether or not she even _wanted_ to get back in touch with Narcissa. Too many things had happened. So when she had heard of the Ministry funded Redemption Programme, - which offered followers of Voldemort a second change by having them live amongst Muggles for half a year, without magic – she had suggested Narcissa should take part to show her she meant it. To her surprise, Narcissa had agreed. And she would re-enter the magical world in a couple of days.

"I wonder if she will have changed."

"I think she will have," Molly replied. "Otherwise, do you think she would have lasted all those months?"

"I don't know, to be honest. They did get through the interbellum, so perhaps she'll just think of this as another interbellum."

"Andy, you know your sisters better than anyone else. What does your heart tell you?"

Andromeda hesitated. "I _hope _she'll come out a better person, but I honestly don't know. I've thought I knew her before. But the Cissy I remember from childhood, isn't the same as the coldblooded, cold-hearted stuck up Pureblood Wife she's been these past years."

"I understand. Still, you'll have to thrust her, have to thrust her promise to change her ways. Because if you didn't think she would be capable of changing, why would you ask her to partake in the programme?

"Because I want to believe she can."

"Are you going to the ceremony?"

"What ceremony?"

"Where they get their wands back and thus complete the programme. Arthur said that the ones that got their family's support, are always doing better than the ones that have to figure it out on all own." As a Ministry worker in the Muggle Relations Office, Arthur looked over the files on each and every single partaker, matching them with the Muggles that were to be their aids during the programme.

"Why didn't they tell me about the ceremony?"

"I honestly don't know, but I really think you ought to be there, to show them – or at least Narcissa – that you have it in your heart to forgive and that you're proud of them. If you want, I could come with you?"

Andromeda slowly shook her head. "No, it has to be just me. Thanks for offering Molly, but this is something I have to do on my own."

"I completely understand," Molly said. "I hope the programme will bring you what you wish for."

* * *

Even after Andromeda and Narcissa had rekindled their relationship, Andromeda and Molly didn't cease to be close friends. At the weddings of all of Molly's children, Andromeda had been present, crying just as severely as the mother of the groom. Ginny's wedding was different. That affected her the most. Nymphadora had always wanted to have a fairytale wedding. But in the end she'd gotten a small ceremony, because they had little money and the war was all-consuming. Ginny was marrying Harry Potter, so of course, she could have a big wedding with a nice party.

There were so many things that pained her about this wedding and she shook her head sadly. _Don't ruin their wedding day, Andy_, she spoke to herself. _It's not their fault_. And besides, it didn't do to dwell on what-might-have-beens and forget the fact that despite the simplicity of their wedding, Nymphadora and Remus had been very happy together. It was about time that she moved on and stopped comparing everything to Ted or Nymphadora.

Next to the altar, Teddy was waving frantically at her and she smiled and waved back. He and Bill and Fleur's daughter Victoire were pages at the wedding and Teddy had his hair in a colour that was so dark a shade of red that when looked at at a certain angle, it looked black. She didn't particularly like it, but Teddy had explained that the red was for Ginny and the black for Harry. She had laughed. He was such a considerate little boy.

-o0o-

"They are adorable, aren't they?" she said to Molly and ruffled Teddy's hair.

"Gran!" he whined and both adults laughed.

"Yes they are," Molly replied. They were sitting together at the wedding party and watched 'the younger generation' dance. "Can you imagine, a couple of years ago, _we_ were 'the younger generation'. And now we're grandparents."

"Yes, time does seem to go by quickly, doesn't it? It remember going to parties like this with my sisters. I think Cissy was the only one to actually enjoy herself," Andromeda laughed.

"You and…Bella didn't like dancing?" Molly asked. They had decided some years ago that whenever they would talk about Andromeda's sisters, they'd talk about 'Cissy' and 'Bella'. Molly hated Bellatrix and had eventually killed her. But a Bella, that could be a different person. And in a way, it was. The stories Andromeda told of her younger days, showed an entirely different person than the lunatic, deranged woman who had tortured and killed so many.

"We did like dancing alright," Andromeda mused. "We just didn't like the company, most of the time. Oh, don't look so surprised!" she grinned. "You've seen most of them when you were in Hogwarts, you have to admit a lot of them were quite pompous."

Molly laughed too. "Yes, that's true. Though not all Purebloods are pompous."

"No, you've found yourself one of the good ones. You and Arthur really are a good match. You must have together all throughout Hogwarts, no?"

"Not exactly," Molly leaned in conspiringly, a twinkle in her eyes, "Did you know that I had a crush on Professor Dearborn when I was a first year?"

"Wait, what?" Andromeda gasped. "But he was old!"

"Not that old, I think he was in his thirties and to my eleven-year-old self his long brown hair and aristocratic behaviour was perfection. I used to draw little hearts with his and my name in it." Molly giggled.

"I have some trouble imagining that," Andromeda grinned. "Seriously, you had a crush on Professor Dearborn?"

"Of course I soon found out that he was a bit of a snob. And that he wasn't really into girls…you know, him being with Professor Kettleburn and all… So it lasted only a couple of months."

"Dearborn and Kettleburn were an item?" Andromeda asked shocked.

"Come on, you knew that, didn't you?"

"I can honestly say that I didn't," Andromeda muttered. "It does explain certain things though."

Molly laughed. "Well, as you can imagine, once I found that out, it was immediately over with."

-o0o-

The subject came back when they were sitting by the fireplace, knitting needles at hand and balls of yarn all around them. Molly had asked Andromeda if she could help her knit sweaters. The Weasley family had expanded with all the grandchildren and Molly had admitted that the squinting had really decreased her eyesight. Andromeda had accepted, glad to have something to do now that Teddy had started primary school. She had never been one to knit, but she quickly got the hang of it.

"I still can't wrap my head around the fact that you had a crush on professor Dearborn," Andromeda laughed while the needles ticked away.

"I was only eleven!" Molly protested. "You know what eleven-year-old girls are like. Don't tell me you never had a crush on a professor when you were at Hogwarts."

Andromeda blushed and Molly triumphantly said: "Aha! I knew it! Who was it?"

"Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"I won't say a word, but you're making me very curious right now…" Molly stopped her knitting and looked expectantly at Andromeda.

Andromeda sighed. "It wasn't really a teacher. Remember Victoria Cattermole?"

"The student aid in Charms?"

"The very same."

"What about her?"

"I had a crush on her when I was about thirteen."

Molly fell silent. "Oh…" she said.

"It was all very confusing," Andromeda admitted. "Especially since at the same time, I also liked Michael Smith and I knew my parents would approve of neither."

"But you married Ted…"

"Yes, we all have crushes before we find the one we marry, right?" Andromeda laughed. "I mean, you didn't marry Professor Dearborn either."

Molly laughed too. "Good heavens, no. You know, it's funny that we can talk about these things. I've never told anyone before."

"I never told anyone about Victoria either." Andromeda shrugged. "I couldn't tell my family or any of my Hogwarts friends for obvious reasons. And when I was with Ted, we never talked about past crushes. It would have been nice though if we had been friends at Hogwarts. I feel like we can talk about anything."

Molly nodded. "Wisdom comes with the ages," she said knowingly and laughed.

"Oh shut up," Andromeda replied. "We're not _that _old. And anyway, you're never too old to make new friends and catch up."

"That I definitely agree with," Molly replied.


	3. Romance

_A/N: The pairing in this chapter is Susan/Ernie and I picked the prompt 'matchmaking' from the bonus round. This chapter is also written for fan-freak121's _Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Appreciation Challenge_, where I was giving the character of Hannah Abbott, for my own _Pairing Diversity Boot Camp_ with the prompt "quail" and for ToxicRainfall's _Favourite Hogwarts House Boot Camp_ with the house Hufflepuff and the prompt "butterflies in your stomach". _

* * *

"I swear, you two are perfect for each other," Hannah Abbott smiled at her best friend Susan Bones. The two of them were in the Charms classroom, so she had to whisper to prevent anyone else from hearing what she had to say. "Ernie keeps glancing at you and he told me he likes the way your hair cascades down your back when you have it loose."

"I don't know Hannah," Susan sighed and glanced carefully over at where Ernie sat, a few feet away from them. He was trying hard to make his spell work and seemed to have no interest in the girls whatsoever. "Ernie really is a nice guy, but I'm not sure he feels about me that way. Or that I feel about him in that way. He's just a friend."

Hannah shook her head. "I just know that the two of you will be perfect together."

-o0o-

Later that evening, Hannah had patrol duty with Ernie.

"What do you think of Susan?" she asked.

"She's just a friend, like you. Why are you asking?"

"Oh, don't give me that. I notice the way you kept shooting glances at her," Hannah teased.

It was too dark to see it clearly, but she could have sworn Ernie blushed a little. She grinned. _Ha, I knew it!_

"You know, she likes how you stood up against Umbridge."

"Really?" Ernie's eyes lit up just a little. "It was not that special you know, I'm sure lots of people would have done the same…"

"I don't know if they would, but you did, and Susan admires that in you."

-o0o-

"I told Ernie the other night that you think it's very brave of him to be standing up against Umbridge," she told Susan casually a couple of days later.

"Hannah!" Susan grunted. "Why did you go and tell him that? Who knows what he'll think of me now."

"He seemed rather pleased with it, in fact." Hannah looked smug and Susan punched her.

"Ouch, why'd you do that?"

"You deserved that," Susan replied. "For not minding your business."

"But you like Ernie, right?"

"That's beside the point."

Susan tried to be cool about it, but the blush on her cheeks told Hannah everything she needed to know.

-o0o-

"Ernie, you have to ask Susan to go out with you," Hannah insisted. "Next week is Hogsmeade weekend, so that'll be the perfect occasion."

"I don't know Hannah," Ernie replied. "What if she'll say no?"

"She won't," she assured him. "Trust me, I know."

Ernie cautiously took a step in Susan's direction. Then he looked back at Hannah.

"Go on, don't quail now!" she urged him on. "Follow those butterflies in your stomach. I'm positive she'll say yes."

A bit more confident, Ernie approached Susan.

"Say, Susan?" he said.

"Yes?" Susan replied, looking up at him.

"Willyougotohogsmeadewimenext weekend?" he rattled in one breath.

From her chair a short distance away, Hannah sighed. _Seriously Ernie, that's how you ask a girl on a date?_ she thought.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Susan asked.

Ernie took a deep breath. "Will you go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?"

Susan shot Hannah a look.

"I…I…totally understand if you wouldn't…" Ernie stammered, flushing scarlet.

"No, that's not it, I'd love too," Susan hasted to say.

"Oh, good. So…uhm…I'll see you next week then?" he asked sheepishly.

"Yes. And before that of course, since we have all our classes together."

"Oh yes, of course. Uhm…I gotta go now…" He hastily left the common room and Hannah started laughing.

"Hannah Abbott, you horrible, horrible person!" Susan said.

"What? I'm only helping…" Hannah answered innocently.

"I've never been on a date before!"

"Well, once has to be the first, don't you think?"

"What if it's horrible? What if we have nothing to talk about?"

"Susan, you and Ernie have been friends for almost five years now. Surely you'll find something to talk about. Don't worry, you'll be fine, Ernie is a sweet guy."

-o0o-

In the end, it turned out Hannah was right. Once Susan and Ernie had gotten over their initial awkwardness, they had really enjoyed their date in Hogsmeade and since that day they were together.

"Come on guys, get a room," Hannah rolled her eyes one day when she found the two of them snogging in the common room once again.

"Well, you're the one that wanted us to come together in the first place, so you can't complain now," Ernie teased and planted another kiss on Susan's lips.

"Yeah, but that was before I knew you would be glued together all day," Hannah replied wearily.

Susan laughed. "You know what Hannah? That sounds almost like you're jealous. Maybe we should fix you up with someone as well." Her eyes started glistening mischievously."Maybe you should take some moon-lit strolls around the lake too..."

"Don't you dare…" Hannah protested.

"Yeah Hannah, I've heard Terry likes the way _your hair cascades down your back when you have it loose_…," Ernie joined in on the teasing.

Hannah shot Susan a look and then Susan and Ernie bursted into a fit of laughter.

"Oh, shut up, you two," Hannah said.

But their laughter was contagious and soon, Hannah was laughing as well. After all, she _had been_ the one who had started all this matchmaking in the first place.


	4. Rebellion

_A/N: This chapter is also written for Fire The Canon's _Hogwarts Games 2012_, category Swimming: backstroke 2000plus words (write a story without romance) and for Tinklish Bell's _Music Awards Competions_, category Own Composition, with the prompts "snigger", "face", "shout", "gaze" and "amaze". _

_I also used the prompts "princess" from Owluvr's _Character Diversity Boot Camp_ and "Over my dead body." from HedwigBlack's _Minor Character Boot Camp_. _

* * *

Since the beginning of the school year, things had drastically changed at Hogwarts. Astoria had already noticed so on the Platform before boarding the Hogwarts Express. It seemed less crowded then usual and the people that were there had a hollow look in their eyes, fear written across their faces as they constantly looked around to check no one was eavesdropping, like the goodbyes to their children could held some secret message.

Upon arriving at the castle, she wasn't surprised to find that the Slytherin table was the only one that was fully occupied. After all, Slytherin only housed Purebloods and some stray Halfbloods, and the new regime was mostly after Muggleborns. Well, that was fine, wasn't it? Muggleborns oughtn't be doing magic. Her family held the common Pureblood belief that, as Purebloods, they were better than Muggleborns, even though they had not joined The Dark Lord's ranks. The school would be better off without Muggleborns.

But Astoria soon came back on that notion. With the arrival of the Carrows, two extremely vicious teachers and notorious Death Eaters, the school atmosphere had dropped drastically. In previous years, Astoria had been able to laugh and enjoy herself like any student. She had even been on somewhat friendly terms with students of the other houses – the Pureblooded ones that was.

But now everyone was quiet and scared. The shouts and laughter that had once filled the halls of Hogwarts was now replaced with screams, for the Carrows' favourite way of dealing with what they called 'unruly students' was hexing and cursing them. Higher-year Slytherins partook in the hexing and cursing, some with pleasure, it seemed. Astoria found this to be appalling and wasn't afraid to tell said students exactly what she thought of them. It had earned many a duel already – which, due to the fact that they knew and used worse spells than she did, she almost always lost.

"Astoria, can you please keep a low profile?" Daphne had pleaded.

"Why? So your friends can continue their torture spree?" she had replied, fire in her eyes.

Daphne's face hardened. "They're not all bad, Tori."

"No, that's right. Only the ones that torture people for fun are."

"You're impossible."

"I stand for my principles. I'm not going to sit around like some Pureblood princess who thinks that if you ignore things, they will just go away."

It was a sneer at her sister and the look of hurt on Daphne's face showed that that message had come true. Daphne closed her eyes for a moment.

"Look, could you please not pick fights with them anymore? They know worse spells than you do and it's only a matter of time for someone gets killed. I'd rather it'd not be you. Please, could you promise me that?"

Reluctantly, Astoria nodded. "Fine, I won't pick a fight with them anymore," she gave in. _Not while you're around anyway_, she added in her mind.

She had not yet finished speaking when she felt Daphne's arms around her. "Thank you," Daphne whispered in her ear. "I don't want to lose you."

-o0o-

Astoria often thought back on her sister's words whenever she scooped through the castle, trying to find ways to undermine the Carrows' regime and then a small bubble of guilt burst inside of her. _Well, I only promised not to pick a fight, didn't I? I never promised anything about not standing up at all,_ she tried to defend her actions for herself. She had managed to find a small group of Slytherins who each in their own way tried to defy the system of curses and hexes that reigned the school. There were only four of them, the others either partook in the regime with enthusiasm, or, like Daphne, were to afraid of the first group to act up. The quartet consisted of Astoria, fifth years Eleanor Crouch and Sebastian Pucey and fourth year Gavin Higgs.

She knew they might be able to do more if they were a part of Dumbledore's Army, the infamous group of students that she knew for a fact had reformed. Ginny Weasley and Colin Creevey, two Gryffindors in her year, were part of it and she suspected several more. But they were as prejudiced as they claimed the Slytherins to be, because they only asked Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws to join. And Astoria was too proud to approach them herself.

So they co-existed alongside each other and perhaps the fact that they didn't belong to Dumbledore's Army made them more successful, since the Carrows' full focus appeared to be on catching and 'discouraging' members of Dumbledore's Army. Many a time, Astoria had seen the injuries on their arms and faces and she was glad not to be scarred yet. Initially, she had wanted to be a part of Dumbledore's Army, but she realised now that their strength lay in their secrecy. The Carrows never suspected any resistance from within the Slytherin population.

One day, she found a frightened Hufflepuff, presumably a first-year or perhaps a second-year, his nose covered in blood and clutching his stomach with his hands.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

The boy staggered backwards, away from her. "Please don't hurt me," he whispered in a hoarse voice.

Astoria instantly cursed her green tie. It was obvious the boy had encountered some of the Slytherin seniors. So quickly looked around. _No one to be seen_.

"It's okay," she said and took out her wand. "What's your name?"

The look in the boys' eyes told her he did not trust her and she sighed.

"Let me see that head wound," she said softly and pushed some of his hair out of his face. The boy shivered, but let her proceed. There was a nasty cut across his forehead and Astoria murmured a healing spell. The bleeding slowly stopped and the boy looked at her, surprised now.

"Is that better?" she asked.

"Yes, it is. But I thought…"

"I know what you thought," she replied grimly. "I'm a Slytherin, so I must be bad, right?"

The boy had the decency to blush.

"Well, guess what, not all Slytherins are evil. Now, what's with your stomach?"

"I don't know what they did, but it hurts like hell. Can you heal that too?" Just the simple fact that she healed his head wound instead of worsened it, had made him decide that he could trust her.

"I'll see what I can do. Lift up your shirt."

Obediently, he did what she asked of him. Astoria gasped. His stomach was white like the moon and there was an ugly red-yellowish rash all over his abdomen. It looked infected. She had no idea what kind of spell he was hit with, but she instantly knew that this was something she could not heal.

"I'll try to lighten the pain some, but you really must go see Madame Pomfrey." She looked around once again. "The sooner you go, the better. There is no one in the corridors now, so I suggest you go now."

"Thank you," he whispered to her.

She shook her head. "Do me a favour, will you? Don't mention to anyone that I helped you."

He gazed at her, confused, so she insisted. "I swear, you can't tell anyone."

Reluctantly, he nodded, still not understanding why she didn't want anyone to know.

"Now, go on, go to the hospital wing!" she urged him on. "Hurry, before someone else appears."

Eventually, he turned and left, scurrying towards the hospital wing. She hoped he would not encounter the Carrows or any of the torture-inflicting Slytherins.

-o0o-

Astoria, Eleanor, Gavin and Sebastian continued their silent resistance against the regime and when even some Slytherin first-years were cursed, more people found the courage to stand up in secret. So their quartet doubled with the addition of Malcolm Brown and Jocelyn O'Brien from fifth year, Sue Winterdown from her own year and Mike Sullivan from fourth year.

Not long after, a meagre first-year, Gaspard Fawley asked her if he could join. Astoria was hesitant, but Gaspard convinced her that he would be up for it. He was small and tiny and could easily hide in niches. He was from a long lineage of Pureblooded family, but that didn't stop him.

"Over my dead body will they harm my friends," he had sworn.

It was this fury with which he told her he wanted to protect his fellow Slytherins that eventually convinced her to let him join their little group.

He turned out to be a true addition, because he was in contact with the students in lower years and thus it was easier for the other ones to reach them and heal their wounds.

Astoria rarely aided students from other houses at that time. Practically no Muggleborn student had returned after the Christmas holidays and some of the Pureblooded ones weren't present anymore either. Gavin, who was a Halfblood, had not come back and neither had Jocelyn, for the same reason. She had always thought that Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood had been vital assets to Dumbledore's Army, so she was bit amazed that even they didn't return. It never stopped the other members of Dumbledore's Army though. She had noticed how their leader, a seventh year, who, she had learned from Daphne was called Neville Longbottom, seemed all the more driven to make the Carrows' life a living hell. Secretly, she admired him for persisting even though not a day went by that he wasn't covered in fresh cuts and bruises.

-o0o-

At the start of May, the almost monotone times of curses and hexes, healing and revolting, was broken by the arrival of none other than Harry Potter. Astoria had never really liked him, she thought he was too full of himself. But he was who You-Know-Who was after. Like many a student, she screamed when the cold voice resonated inside her head, telling her to hand over Potter or be prepared to die…

"I will not let them take the school without a fight!" Professor McGonagall declared fiercely. "I don't know if we can stop him, but we can most definitely delay him. Everyone who is of age and wants to stay and help us defend the castle, your help is very much needed. Everyone underage or those who do not wish to fight may follow Mr Filch, who will make sure you can get away safely."

Astoria was indecisive as she watched a row of younger students depart, some relieved that they could leave, others protesting that they wanted to stay and give their share of help. The first Slytherins started to leave and in the blurred group, she found Daphne's face.

"Tori?" Daphne asked hesitant. "You don't _have_ to stay…"

But Astoria shook her head. The moment Daphne spoke out, she had reached a decision. Throughout the year, she had worked to thwart the Carrows and everything they stood for. She couldn't leave now.

"I'm sorry Daph," she said, shaking her brown curls out of her face. "I don't want to be a coward, not anymore. It's time we show the world that Slytherins are not that different from the rest of them. Not all of us are into dark magic."

"Then I'm staying too," Daphne said decisive. "I'm not leaving when my kid sister stays and fights."

Pansy Parkinson sniggered as she heard Daphne's words. "You're fools, both of you. Why stay and risk your live for some brick and stones, to save Muggleborns and Halfbloods?"

"Because it's the right thing to do," Astoria said. Her voice sounded way calmer than she felt. Pansy turned and left, still snorting at what she considered to be their stupid decision.

Slowly, the student body in the Great Hall thinned out. Astoria wasn't surprised that Sue and Sebastian had stayed, and Malcolm and Mike, even though they were underage, refused to leave as well. Surprisingly, not many Slytherins remained. She met Professor Slughorn's eye and he nodded at her in contempt. _At least some of my house have stayed,_ that look said. _At least some of them value Hogwarts and our freedom the way I do_, he seemed to think. Astoria understood how he must be feeling and was determined to give it her best.

She had a knot in her stomach as she mentally prepared herself to fight. All was eerily quiet now, but it would not last long. Soon, You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters would raid the castle, attempting to kill each and every person that stood in their way of getting their hands on Potter. A war was about to ensue and she did not know whether any of them would come out alive, but at least she knew she was doing the right thing.


	5. Separation

A_/N: This chapter was also written for Fire the Canon's _Hogwarts Games 2012, quarterfinals of men's tennis_ (write a fic centered on one or more of the Weasleys). I also used the prompts "apology" for The Original Horcrux' _Family Boot Camp_, "mistake" for HedwigBlack's _Minor Character Boot Camp_ and "regret" for owluvr's _Character Diversity Boot Camp_._

* * *

Percy stared miserably at the invitation in his hand. The ornate golden letters on crisp white parchment danced in front of his eyes, taunting him.

_Arthur and Molly Weasley_

_and_

_Geoffroi and Appolline Delacour_

_proudly announce the wedding of their children_

_William Arthur Weasley_

_and_

_Fleur Isabelle Delacour_

_on the 30__th__ of July 1997_.

He had sent them an owl with his best wishes. Perhaps he ought to have gone. Perhaps he ought to have made his apology and ask for forgiveness. Perhaps he ought to have returned and admitted his mistake. But he couldn't. He had said things and done things that he knew his family would not so easily forgive him for. If he had turned up at the wedding tonight, it would have been very awkward. Bill would probably accept his apology, as would Charlie. His mum sure would be glad that he had returned. But he wasn't so sure about his dad and he knew that George, Fred and Ron would refuse to let him in again. In a way, they were right: he had been a prat, picking his career over his family.

Percy knew that if he showed up at the wedding, people would stare and there would most likely be a fight between him and the twins. But that wasn't right. It was Bill's wedding day after all and on such a day all attention should go to the bride and groom, not to the stray member of the family that picked that occasion to return like the long lost sheep of a herd. So, with an ache in his heart, he had settled for an owl instead, but he would have given anything if he had been able to attend his brother's wedding party.

He looked up at the moon and he wondered if his parents would be doing the same at that exact moment. When he closed his eyes, he could picture them cuddling on the double swing, fingers intertwined and his mum's head on his father's shoulder. They often sat like that on quiet sunny evenenings.

He thought back on the day that he had left. Everything had seemed so promising back then. He had just started his job at the Ministry as a junior clerk and he was filled with ambition to become the best. He knew of his father's poor reputation at the Ministry and he was determined to create another (better) reputation of his own. _Ow how he had failed them!_ Shame made his cheeks turn purple.

* * *

"_Dad, you have to understand," Percy said, "I take my job serious, but everywhere I turn people stick up their nose at me because I'm a Weasley. Because I'm your son. You could at least try to make an effort to make things a little less awkward for me."_

"_Oh, and what would it be that I should do differently then, according to you?" _

_He had not recognised the ice in his father's voice, not at that point anyway. _

"_Well, to start with, you could try to find some decent robes instead of those tattered ones. You could show some ambition for once, instead of working on exploding toilets in that cupboard you call an office."_

"_So you think you're better than us then, is that it?" his father said furiously. "You think that money grows on trees? Do you have any idea what the costs are of providing for a family this big?"_

"_If you'd had some ambition, you would have gotten a better job and then you would have had more money to spend," Percy stated, still convinced of his own ideas. _

_The veins in his father's neck were swollen and his face was red of anger. _

"_And you should distance yourself from Harry Potter," Percy continued. "It would look really bad on me if my father rather supported an underage deranged wannabe hero than the Minister of Magic himself."_

"_Dumbledore beliefs him and that's enough reason for me."_

"_Dumbledore's getting old. The Minister said the other day…" _

"_Do tell me what the Minister said," his father sneered. "I'm pretty sure Cornelius only produced utter rubbish." _

_Percy was shocked. "He is your boss! That sounds like treason."_

"_Cornelius is too afraid to do something, and by the time he does, it'll probably be too late." _

"_Father, I'm shocked at your behaviour. Though it does explain why you never got promoted. But your attitude reflects very badly upon my own ambitions, so I'm afraid I'll have to distanciate myself from this family and show the Minister that even though I'm a Weasley, I know where my loyalties lie." _

"_Well go then!" his father shouted. "Leave, if we 'bother your career'! You're nothing but a selfish brat and I had never thought the day would come that my own son would say such things to me. Ungrateful little…"_

_He didn't have time to finish his insult. _

"_I think that would indeed be for the best. The thought of staying here any longer suffocates me." And with those words he had Apparated out of the Burrow, out of his parents' domain, out of Ottery-st-Catchpole. Out of his parents' life._

* * *

He felt miserable when he recalled his words. _How could he ever have said those things to his father?_ He knew now that he had been blinded by ambition, but he could only imagine how deeply he must have wounded all of them. And it had all backfired on him, hadn't it? You-Know-Who had returned, Dumbledore had been murdered by his followers, Fudge was sacked, his father had been promoted and he had quit his job. He just couldn't do it anymore. He had always believed to be right, had thought that Fudge knew what he was doing. But now Percy was sitting in his London apartment, alone and unemployed, without friends or family, while his brother had gotten married today.

The fact that Bill had sent him an invitation meant more to him than he could possibly describe in words. Like with the rest of the family, he hadn't seen Bill in years and he did not even know what Bill's wife, his sister-in-law, looked like. She sounded French, but that was all he could detect from the invitation. Regret washed over him once again.

_I ought to have gone._

Percy looked up to the moon once more. It radiated a sort of soothing calmth that eased his tensions. He knew he could not continue like this. Without a job, he'd lose his apartment. And the last thing he wanted was to return to his parents without a job or a place to astay, because then it would look as if he only came back because of money issues. No, he had to find a way to make himself useful, so that when he did return, his parents would find a son that they would actually be willing to accept in their midst once more.

Suddenly, an idea hit him. He had made fun of his father's love for Muggles, but maybe he should that to his advantage. And so Percy Weasley decided that the next day, he would go searching for a Muggle job. He knew virtually nothing of the Muggle world, yet he was convinced that there had to be _some_ job that a smart wizard such as himself would be able to do. Muggles had to have simple jobs as well.

He wasn't aware that a hundred-or-so yards away from his apartment, his family and friends of earlier days we're fleeing Bill's wedding when Death Eaters showed up. No, at that moment he hoped with his entire being that at some point in the future, he would find the courage to return and that when he did, his parents would find it in their heart to forgive him. People said you could make a wish on a star, perhaps the same went for the moon? He did not know if it would work, but he closed his eyes and wished for reconciliation. He still had a long way to go, but Percy was determined to do it right this time. And then, who knew, maybe they would share some moongazing again some day.


	6. Sacrifice

_This was also written for Lilybug134's _Favourite Era Boot Camp_ with the prompt "mythical", Owluvr's _Character Diversity Boot Camp_ with the prompt "cooperate", and HedwigBlack's _Minor Character Boot Camp_ with the prompt "bubbles". _

* * *

At first, he had been proud. His cousin Bellatrix was already a high-ranked officer amidst the Dark Lord's followers and the Dark Lord had approached him in person when he was sixteen because Bella spoke highly of him. He thought of it as a way to restore his family's name after Sirius had wronged them two years prior. He had thought that being a Death Eater was the highest honour one could get and his mind the Dark Lord's idea of rinsing the Wizarding world of Muggles had taken on mythical proportions.

He had been wrong about magnifying the Death Eater involvement. It was scarier en bloodier than he had ever imagined and the first time he had to torture and kill an infant, he had been sick. Bellatrix had scowled at him, told him he was as much an embarrassment to the family as Sirius and Andromeda had been, because Blacks didn't show emotion and they certainly didn't throw up in front of the Dark Lord.

But that was manageable. The thing he had just learned about wasn't.

"Tell me again, Kreacher, what did he do?"

The house elf, stammering and shaking, obediently retold his story. How the Dark Lord had taken him to a cave that was by far the scariest place Kreacher had ever been to. The water was green and the dead had come back to life.

"He had this medallion, and it was evil and whispered. And then, and then the Dark Lord made Kreacher drink this horrible, horrible drink. It was like poison and Kreacher saw…Kreacher saw all the bad things. And the pain…the pain Master Regulus…" The house elf nearly choked on his words. "And he told Kreacher that the medallion would make him immortal as long as it was hidden safe in the bowl. And he put the medallion in the bowl and the poison reappeared and then he left, not looking if Kreacher lived or died. But Master Regulus had told Kreacher to come back, so that's what Kreacher did, come back. It was difficult, but Kreacher did it."

"It's okay Kreacher. No one blames you," Regulus said firmly. "If anything, I blame the Dark Lord. He obviously knew about the poison and took you along for the sole purpose of you drinking it."

Regulus paced through his bedroom in long, angry steps. When the Dark Lord had requested to borrow the house elf, Regulus had been more than happy to cooperate. After all, the Dark Lord could have asked anyone, but he had asked _him_.

"Immortal, you say? I think that no good can come of that." He stopped dead in his tracks. "Can you describe the medallion to me? In detail?"

"Kreacher can try…" the elf said hesitantly. And he started describing a golden medallion with an engraved S, tessellated with emeralds. Regulus searched around the house for an old necklace of his mother and with Kreacher's description, he managed to transform in a medallion that perhaps was not an exact replica, but it was close enough for what he had in mind. Writing the note took remarkably longer. _When you'll find this, I'll be long dead. I want you to know that I have discovered your secret and will destroy the original medallion, in the hope that when you'll finally face your adversary, you will do so as a mortal once again. RAB. _He made himself no illusions. He knew he would die in that cave, but that was a sacrifice he was willing to make if it meant he could prevent the Dark Lord from becoming immortal.

"Kreacher, take me to that cave," he ordered.

The house elf looked frightened. "But-but Master Regulus…" he whimpered.

"That's an order."

Kreacher hung his head. "Yes Master Regulus."

-o0o-

Not long after, Regulus found himself on top of cliff that so steep even the birds couldn't nest there. It was cold and the tides of the ocean had him soaked in no time. The light of the moon shining down on the cave gave it somewhat eerie and macabre place.

Kreacher reluctantly showed him how to open the cave and Regulus entered a gauntly place. Tiny bubbles erupted on the surface of the underground lake, leaving a smell of rotten flesh and death in their wake. Involuntarily, he shuddered. This place was evil, he could feel that in every particle of his body.

"Master Regulus, we could get back…" Kreacher pleaded, trying desperately to make his master see his mistake.

"Kreacher, listen to me," Regulus stated. "You are going to bring to the little island in the middle of the lake, I'm going to drink the poison and you switch the medallions once the bowl is empty."

Kreacher's face was horrorstruck. "No, no, Master Regulus can not drink the poison! Let Kreacher do it, Kreacher knows what it does now, Sir.

"No. I need you to get out with the real medallion and destroy it. I do not know what houses inside, but we must prevent the Dark Lord from becoming immortal. So, once you've switched the medallions, you Disapparate out of the cave."

"And Master Regulus?" the elf squeeked.

"You leave me there. If I live to tell the tell, I'll inform anyone. And if I die in the process, well, so be it. "

"But Master Regulus…"

"No, no objections. I have to do this. Even if I beg you to stop, you are not allowed to do so, do you understand? Under no circumstances. "

"Yes Master Regulus."

The house elf obviously didn't agree, but he didn't dare voice this out loud.

"Good. And when I tell you to leave, you leave. No matter what. "

-o0o-

The rest went by in a blur. He knew he must have gotten to the island (by boat? by teleportation?) but when Kreacher had started handing him cups of the greenish liquid, it seemed like his entire world had stopped and had been replaced with pain. Only pain and torture, worse then he had ever inflicted in his life.

"Make it stop!" he screamed. "Stop giving me this poison, you ungrateful house elf, stop it!"

"Master said that Kreacher wasn't allowed to do so," Kreacher said as his trembling hands downed another cup of poison down Regulus' throat.

"NOOOOO!" Regulus shrill shrieks echoed off the wall, bouncing back to him at least ten times reinforced.

"I want it to stop!" Tears were streaming down Regulus' face now. He could not stop them from falling."

"The bowl is-is empty, Master Regulus."

Regulus felt a sort a calmness come over him. He suddenly felt better, the writhing had stopped and he was left with a terrified and damaged soul. Yet somehow, he managed to get the fake medallion out.

"Switch them," he ordered his house elf in a hoarse voice. "Do it now!"

Kreacher did as he was told, but Regulus already had his attention elsewhere. _He was just so thirsty…if only he could drink something from the lake…It may not look good, but perhaps the taste wasn't too bad…_

"No Master Regulus!" Kreacher shrieked, but it was already to late. The hands of the dead had come from the depths of the lake and pulled him in. He tried to fight it, but they were with too many.

"Get out of here!" he yelled at the frozen elf. "Go away, destroy the medallion!"

The moment his head was pulled under water, Regulus desperately struggled to get some fresh air in his lungs, but the hands of the dead only pulled him under further. Regulus felt his lungs explode and his heart slowly stopping from the cold.

* * *

Above the surface of the water, Kreacher watched in horror how his Master disappeared under water and he wasn't able to do anything about it. Master may have been a Black and a brute at times, he had also had moments were he had been kind to Kreacher. With tears in his eyes and the swapped medallion tightly clutched in his right fist, the house elf snapped his fingers and Disapparated out of the cave. He would destroy the medallion, just like Master Regulus had ordered him to do, even if it would cost him forever.


End file.
